


Five Times Mike Makes Harvey Laugh – And The One Time He Makes Him Smile

by sal_si_puedes



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harvey laughs, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Mike can't cook, Mike is a klutz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_si_puedes/pseuds/sal_si_puedes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Times Mike Makes Harvey Laugh – And The One Time He Makes Him Smile</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Mike Makes Harvey Laugh – And The One Time He Makes Him Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naias](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=naias).



> I wrote this as a gift fic for the wonderful naias (she gave me the prompt of wanting to hear Harvey laugh a while ago) and she decided to share her present with you. :-)
> 
> I'm [sal-si-puedes](http://sal-si-puedes.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

**One**

The first time it happens, Mike attributes it to the weed. They both do, and maybe they’re right. They have smoked a lot, after all, and Harvey clearly isn’t himself. If he were he’d never make those incredibly endearing sounds. Mike is sure of that. He has never heard them before and he is certain that he’d never have if it weren’t for the weed. He thinks that he has to remember to thank the coffee cart guy later, because that man is responsible for all of this after all, and that makes so much sense when you come to think of it, Mike wonders. (He doesn’t talk to the guy, though. His memory quite obviously doesn’t work the same when he’s stoned. Or so he tells himself.)

Harvey laughs. It starts as a giggle – and it can remain like that for minutes and minutes, and it does just that several times that night – before it dissolves into a full-on, high-pitched joyous laughter.

Mike doesn’t even know what it is that Harvey is laughing about but he is sure that that giggle and that laugh are the most beautiful sounds he has ever heard. He attributes that sentiment to the weed as well, of course, but he can’t help but think, even after the high is long gone, even days and weeks and months after that night, that he wants to hear those sounds again and again, preferably for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t get to hear them again for a very long time, though.

***

**Two**

The second time it happens it comes completely unexpected and without any weed involved. It’s when Mike finds out that, apparently, Harvey has a thing for slapstick.

They’re working late and Mike is sitting on the sofa in Harvey’s office, jacket cast aside, tie loosened and top shirt-button undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his right foot tugged underneath his left thigh. Harvey looks as immaculate as ever, three piece suit and all. It would be infuriating if it weren’t so beautiful.

Mike is arms deep in files and Harvey has been staring at the screen of his laptop for what seems like hours, the occasional blink and mouse-click the only movements he makes.

When Mike gets up from the sofa to go and take a leak, Harvey’s head snaps up at the sound of a dull thud and a sharp cry.

Mike is lying on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, swearing under his breath.

Harvey raises an eyebrow and watches Mike struggle to his feet.

"What the f—" Mike starts to speak but he’s cut short by his leg giving in underneath him once again. He falls but he manages to turn and throw himself sideways so he doesn’t land on the floor this time but halfway on the sofa instead, clutching at the sofa’s back to avoid sliding down.

That’s when he hears it again. Harvey laughs.

Mike squeezes his eyes shut – because he has a thousand pins and needles in his leg, of course – and his heart clenches in his chest – well, he could have been seriously injured when he fell the first time, could have hit his head on the edge of the coffee table and bled out on the way to the hospital or (worse!) stained Harvey’s lush carpet, and he’s just glad none of that happened. When he opens his eyes again and looks across the room at the other man, there are tears streaming down Harvey’s cheeks (his flushed cheeks) and Harvey’s hair is a mess.

Mike can’t help but wonder when that happened and how. He resolves to pay closer attention the next time.

***

**Three**

Mike’s theory about Harvey’s proclivity towards slapstick is tested – and proven – during a late-Friday-night movie session at the condo. He can’t remember when or how the whole thing started but they’ve been having first occasional and then regular movie nights for quite some time now. Usually at Harvey’s, because Harvey has the better couch and the better drinks, but also at Mike’s from time to time or even at a theater.

Well, they’re at Harvey’s tonight and Harvey is slouched on the sofa, a glass of whiskey clutched in his hand (he never drinks more than two bottles of beer before switching to his beloved scotch), wearing faded jeans and a light grey Henley. He has toed off his shoes and socks and Mike has to tear his eyes away from Harvey’s bare feet more than once. He chooses to stare at the screen instead and congratulates himself on not being too obvious.

The movie has been over for a couple of minutes and Harvey is zapping through the channels, looking for some baseball or soccer game or maybe even a boxing match, Mike thinks. Probably the latter. Mike’s head rests against the back of the couch and he lets his eyes fall shut for a moment.

Exactly that moment later he wishes he hadn’t done that. His eyes snap open when – right next to him, right there on the couch in the condo on the 22nd floor, a few inches from where Mike is sitting – Harvey explodes with laughter. Mike must have fallen asleep, must have done a little more than just rest his eyes for a second, he must have missed the giggle that usually precedes the laugh and he thinks he will regret that till his dying day.

Some black-and-white stuff is on, Laurel and Hardy, Mike thinks, and those two dorks are slipping or tripping and falling over each other and landing on the floor in a heap of limbs and bowler hats. It’s not even that funny, Mike thinks, but Harvey seems to disagree.

Mike turns his head and watches the tears on Harvey’s face with fascination and curiosity. He wants to reach out and catch one on his fingertip (okay, the tip of his tongue), wants to find out how it tastes. God, that man is beautiful. He must have had more beer than he remembers.

***

**Four**

It’s Harvey’s birthday – Donna, of course – and Mike has decided to cook. He’s obtained a key to Harvey’s condo – Donna, of course – and now he’s in Harvey’s kitchen, surrounded by bags and pots and pans and vegetables and, basically, stuff. Problem is Mike can’t cook. Only thing is he didn’t know that (it always looks so easy when Harvey does it), so – naturally – he is a little unprepared for the outcome.

He’s swearing like a sailor by the time Harvey comes home (and Mike doesn’t even notice that Harvey is there, he’s far too busy dipping his fingers into unlabeled jars in a desperate attempt to find out if it really _is_ salt _this time around_ ). Instead of candles and polished glasses and silverware there is chaos and mayhem and, basically, the End of All Things(TM). So, Mike is swearing how this is the shittiest of birthday dinners in all recorded history and how he’s never going to do that again and how could he have been such a fucking idiot.

Harvey must have watched him for some time, Mike thinks, because the laugh is already in full swing when Mike becomes aware of the other man. Harvey is trying to cover his mouth with his hand, Mike has to give him that, but all attempts to hide his amusement are futile. They’re powerless against the force of nature that is Harvey’s laugh.

Mike throws the kitchen towel to the ground and turns off the stove.

"Fuck it," he finally resigns. Defeat is defeat, and Mike knows one when he sees one. And he’s anything but a coward. "I’m taking you out."

"Okay," Harvey wheezes. "I think that may be a good idea." Wiping his eyes he reaches for Mike and draws him into a tight embrace.

"Happy fucking birthday," Mike murmurs sadly, nuzzling his words against Harvey’s throat, and Harvey kisses the top of his head.

"Best birthday ever, Mike. Best birthday ever."

***

**Five**

Mike may not be much in the kitchen but he’s a killer in bed. He has successfully reduced Harvey to a moaning mess with his hands and mouth and he’s humming around Harvey’s throbbing dick right now, taking the other man as deep down his throat as he can. And he can pretty deep, if he may say so himself.

Harvey tastes amazing. Mike has found that out a couple of weeks ago when he blew him for the first time right here in this beautiful, luxurious condo. And the day after that in the firm’s men’s room. And in the file room. So he knows and he knows how to savor that again and again.

He lifts his head and releases Harvey’s cock with a slight plopping sound. He props himself up on his elbows and grabs hold of the base of Harvey’s erection. Swirling his tongue around the crown, he gathers a drop of precome with its tip and looks up, smacking his lips.

Their gazes lock and Mike smirks. “Popsicle,” he says, grinning. “Instantly refreshing drink on a stick.”

And Harvey _instantly_ looses it. He falls back into the pillows and – completely forgoing the giggle – bursts into a fit of laughter.

Mike finds out that day that Harvey’s tears taste almost as good as his come. And he revels in the realization that – and yes, there are the passionate and wild times, the romantic and tender times and the just plain desperate times as well – this, this thing between Harvey and himself, is the most fun he’s ever had in bed.

***

**Six**

Mike loves Harvey’s laugh. He can’t count the times he’s had the good fortune and intense pleasure to hear it on the fingers of his hands anymore and that has been the case for a very long time now. But he remembers every one of them. He loves Harvey’s laugh and he’ll do anything to hear it again and again for the rest of his life.

Which is, incidentally, what all of this is about, if he assesses the situation correctly. His head is a bit fuzzy, to be honest, and his mind is reeling. It has – he’s pretty certain of that – something to do with Harvey on his knee in front of him, that little box he’s holding in his hand and that question he has just asked Mike.

And this is when Mike finds out that there is just one thing that he loves more than Harvey’s laugh (well, besides the man himself, of course, but that goes without saying). And that one thing is Harvey’s smile when the answer to that question pours from Mike’s lips.

"Yes."


End file.
